I'll allow a few extra moments for you to react to the title of this post before I begin.
First of all, I'd like to blame this week's internet buzz for forcing me to use the word "twerk" at all. Until Mileygate on Sunday, I was peacefully in the dark about the word and its definition. With its recent overuse on Twitter and in bafflingly passionate think pieces online this week, I turned to my trusted urban dictionary to clear things up for me. This is what I found:
The rhythmic gyrating of the lower fleshy extremities in a lascivious manner with the intent to elicit sexual arousal or laughter in ones intended audience.
And upon further investigation, I saw this:
Please allow me an extra few moments to pick my jaw up off the floor. It's not because I haven't seen women bust moves like this on TV before (one of the many reasons I generally stopped watching music videos years ago). It's because of the discussion it has sparked in light of Miley Cyrus' gyrating, teddy bear-defaming, nearly nude "performance" (and I use that word very loosely) at last weekend's MTV Video Music Awards.
Now that I've got a better understanding of the term, I must say I am appalled by the kind of outrage Cyrus' little number caused. I don't think what she did was entertaining. In fact, I thought it was horrible and disturbing on so many levels (as I would call the above video), a desperate cry for attention. That said, I recognize the anti-feminist claims as well as the opinion that it was in very poor taste. But I cannot get behind those who think that Cyrus has somehow "ripped off" black culture and appropriated it for own exploitation. Further, I will not get angry with them simply because I am black. As one tweeter commented, "we picked the wrong thing to claim."
Why? Because what Cyrus did on the stage and what the young woman in the video is doing above is not anything I grew up observing, nothing I recognize as my own, and certainly not anything with which I would ever want to be associated. I mean, seriously, they both look foolish and self-exploitative while fully clothed men, including Robin Thicke on Sunday, do all but smack their butts in encouragement. I don’t want to celebrate that, no matter who is doing it.
I understand that there may be many black people who have spent their entire lives twerking; throwing twerk parties and studying at the Twerk University of Twerk. More power to them. My aerobics instructor would probably commend them for the valid use of cardio. But it's just not my reality, and I resent the implication that twerking is at all a representation of black culture and that we should all be infuriated when anyone who is not black tries to "take it from us."
Cyrus hasn't taken it from anyone because those who were twerking before are still twerking and even claiming they're better at it. Yes, maybe twerking has now become mainstream (in other words, non-black people are now doing it). But isn't that a good thing, for those who practice the movement, to have it cross barriers? Is everything that is celebrated by some within the black culture unofficially copyrighted?
On the same subject, another buzzworthy phrase from this week has been "cultural appropriation." Many are claiming that Cyrus' act was her trying to be black and essentially claim the "black experience" as her own ("the black experience" is another phrase I use very loosely). While I do believe that, to a certain extent, some may try to adopt an urban look and sound to get street cred like I believe Cyrus tried to do. I think others genuinely sound or adorn themselves a certain way because that was what they were surrounded by growing up, which has probably influenced their current style. Take for instance Justin Timberlake who, despite his awesome 14-minute performance on the VMAs, continues to receive flak from some critics who believe he has acquired a "black sound" for profit and has been praised for it when other black musicians fail to garner similar attention. They've even gone as far as to call him a Michael Jackson wannabe. While I don't disagree that there is a racial imbalance of accolades across the board, I have always thought that much of new music, at its best, is an imitation (or reinterpretation if you will) of classic older songs and artists. This is another reason why I mostly listen to old school jams. To that point, Timberlake does sound like Michael Jackson 2.0. And you know what? So does Usher and Ne-yo. I'd go even further and say that NSYNC was its modern day blend of Jackson Five and New Kids on the Block. But I'd see this more an expression of music influences from finer groups and acts past, not a cash grab.
I can go on. Bruno Mars is like Elvis Presley meets Ritchie Valens meets Stevie Wonder. Boyz II Men were a blend of The Temptations and The Miracles. Adele is a new age Dusty Springfield. Beyoncé is Tina Turner reincarnate. And Lady Gaga is a randomly awesome Madonna/Grace Jones mix. Oh yes, Grace Jones, the forgotten black musician who reinvented a singular musical genre yet receives little to no recognition because she was a black woman without the "typical black sound."
Each time I hear that a certain musician is "trying to be black," I think back to someone like Jones, Lenny Kravitz or Jimi Hendrix, who were criticized for having a "white sound" (despite the fact that much of rock music's roots came from black artists). How is that forced confinement of music different from what those say of Justin Timberlake or even Robin Thicke's tunes for that matter?
I say, let whomever twerk or wear a glittery white glove on one hand, or throw on a gigantic blonde wig and belt out tunes in stilettos and a leotard. I don't have to always like it. But while some continue to argue about who has the right to what genre of music, I'll be over here with the volume on my iPod turned up and jamming to a delightfully random mix of songs to which I will never apologize for listening.
Appropriation){kind=link}